O The Unknown Traveler, come to my home, this sweetness smeared spring. Come into tender
leaves, buds and flowers, into the pollen of kim’shuk flowers. The path is known to You
there is no restriction, I am also not unknown to You. With hearing and meditation our
acquaintance is there of the Formless, since eras after eras. Through the morning light
and darkness of the night, You are mixed in the effulgence of feelings, individually and
collectively. Into lamp of life, mental gem, and hundreds of flows of the river shatadru
(satalej in Paja’b, India).